


Rauck-Chauv

by Monstradamus



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Family, Gen, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 04:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18131072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monstradamus/pseuds/Monstradamus
Summary: Rauck-Chauv is the Gruul Clan's "anti-holiday" response to everything. Several Gruul Clan members reflect on the meaning and importance of this non-holiday.





	Rauck-Chauv

**Author's Note:**

> _So, for starters, to get technicalities out of the way, this is a story that is an entry in yet another challenge. This challenge is the Winter Holiday Theme challenge. So, I’ve returned to Ravnica as a place to get us in the holiday spirit._
> 
> _However, in keeping up with the idea of holidays and winter themes, I decided to challenge myself further, because, you know, I’m crazy like that. So, I thought, what’s more festive than the Gruul Clans this holiday season (because, you know, red/green)? Yeah, no, nothing about them says “holidays.” But, after doing some research, I came across an interesting thing called Rauck-Chauv._
> 
> _Rauck-Chauv is basically an “anti-holiday.” Anytime any other group on Ravnica is celebrating a holiday, the Gruul Clans call for a Rauck-Chauv, which is basically raiding, destroying, and pillaging these other holidays throughout the year. A Rauck-Chauv is only considered successful if the next year, Ravnica is forced to either tone down the other holiday, do it in secret, or abandon it all together. Only then do the Gruul Clans know they have succeeded in spoiling the precious “civilization” of Ravnica. Basically, it’s what trolling would look like in real life. Or is it?_
> 
> _See, as I wrote this story, and had to write it from the perspective of someone in the Gruul Clans, I realized that there is something special about Ravnica. This city-like world is everything we think about when we think of the American myth of the “melting pot,” good and bad. It’s a world filled with different people of different races, beliefs, and ideas. And yet, it is a place where prejudice, hate, and injustice are part of the everyday backdrop. Having to write what a Gruul member sees in this Rauck-Chauv without having them sound like a total jerk made me realize how important it is to try and see things from someone else’s view._
> 
> _Okay, I’ve rambled on enough. On with the show. I just wanted to share with you how important this story feels to me as a writer. But, ultimately, it’s up to you to read and decide if you enjoyed it. Happy holidays!_
> 
> _I do not own anything to do with Wizards of the Coast or Magic: The Gathering. I desperately wish I could work for them writing stories, but hey, a guy can dream, right?_

Khrung watched the cluster of fires as everyone gathered around to settle in for the night. True, there were a few members of the clan with some energy in them to continue celebrating, but everyone else knew it was just too cold. Winters in Ravnica were often bitter, especially when darkness came upon the city and the cold became especially biting.

The clans were strong, though. They could take a bit of cold, not like those cobble roaches in the city who scurried into their warm homes at the first sight of snow. But, even he had to admit it took a bit out of their fervor.

Not that there was much else to do. The entire block had been reduced to rubble. Roaring fires had burned. Raiders had picked the area clean of any useful resources. Now was the time to enjoy the spoils of a successful Rauck-Chauv. Though, it would not truly be a success unless those pompous Selesnyans put an end to their ridiculous holiday next year. Still, everyone in the Ghor Clan loved a good raid. Another year of it would not hurt.

For now, everyone began gathering around their camp fires, eating what food had been picked up in their destructive wake. The older members of the clan huddled together, drinking something warm, and a bit stiff, no doubt. Children played in the snow, still too young to know what Rauck-Chauv meant. Even a few trolls were joining in the fun. They had the minds of children anyway, Khrung thought. He shook his head. To have that sense of wonder again…

His friend, Zhulluc clapped him on the shoulder. “Couldn’t have asked for better,” he said. “You see the way those elves ran? Bet they never expected us in their neighborhoods. Why do you think they created this stupid holiday of theirs?”

Asaronos they had called it, a time to celebrate family. For the longest time, it was only a small tradition recognized by elven families. Only now did it get public recognition.

“Why else?” Khrung said with a laugh. “It’s just an excuse for them to have a day of not having to be out in this damn cold. Gods know they aren’t built for it. One week with us, and they’d freeze to death.”

They found a small fire not fully occupied and sat down. “Course, most of those elves are part of the Selesnyans, at least the ones who think they’re more important. And everyone knows that bunch are too busy being good bedfellows with the Senate to be of any actual use to the city.”

Zhulluc accepted a tin mug of something steaming. “A disgrace if you ask me. They go on preaching about their love of nature. When have you ever seen any of them clerics actually out here with us? They only like nature when it’s pretty and kept in the city.”

“Either way, the Senate recognized this holiday of theirs,” Khrung said. “A time of peace and goodwill to others, they say.”

Zhulluc scoffed. “When the Selesnyans start bringing a little of that ‘good will’ our way, maybe I will start believing in all that nonsense they spew. You think old Tandris is going to blow his stack?”

“Nah, the old man hasn’t been involved in guild activities in ages. I hear his daughter holds a seat of power there.”

“Which one? Those elves breed like rats.”

Khrung waved a hand as if it did not matter. “One of the older ones. Lives in some big place in Ovitzia.”

Zhulluc watched the flames dance in the night, letting the fire warm the tips of his fingers. “You know, if this raid doesn’t put a stop to ‘em, you think Ruric Thar would go for Ovitzia?”

Khrung chuckled. “It would be a sight to see that place burn, but there’d be a lot in our way.”

“We always take care of that.” Zhulluc looked over his shoulder as a troll threw a gigantic snowball at a wall, knocking it to the ground in one hit.

“I’m sure we could,” Khrung said with a grin. He shook his head. “I don’t think we did enough this Rauck-Chauv. They’ll be back at it next year, you know.”

Zhulluc had wasted no time grabbing something to eat and was busy tearing meat off a bone. “Yeah, well, the damn Senate sort of took everyone by surprise declaring it an official holiday, probably to stop us.”

He shrugged. “Probably, but it took everyone else by surprise too, meaning the other guilds don’t get a lot of time to complain. I bet the only ones more miserable than us about it are the Orzhavs. City holiday means no banks.”

Zhulluc snorted. “You know those old windbags found a way to profit from all of this. I doubt they’ll complain too much.”

Everyone stopped when a series of loud bangs could be heard in the distance. At first, everyone thought it was the usual fare of Izzet mishaps, but it seemed to becoming from Rakdos territory.

“They’re just happy to have an excuse to get drunk,” Zhulluc said, shrugging it off. “I envy them…almost.”

Khrung took a sip from his mug. “It keeps ‘em warm and too stupid to realize how cold it is.”

The small flurry of snow had stopped for the time being. Children had grown tired of playing in the snow and crowded at their parents’ feet around the fires. Voices went quiet as elders, emboldened by their warm drinks told stories of days before the plague known as the city of Ravnica overtook everything they held dear. Even Ruric Thar, the two-headed ogre who led the clan listened to a few tales, grins on their faces when the elders told of the bold warriors who fought to the last man to stop the spread of the city.

Even Khrung’s son, Vukrix, who was only six, listened with wide eyes. “Pa, how come we get to have our holiday so many times a year? Dran told me them elves only get their holiday once a year.”

“It ain’t really much of a holiday,” he answered. “We raid and burn all these other parties down, and that’s celebration enough for us. They celebrate the Asaronos in their own way, and we do it with Rauck-Chauv.”

The boy clambered up onto his father’s knee. “Why?”

Khrung sighed, pulling his fur cloak tighter around them. “Cause what they do ain’t right. Son, this whole place that we’re standing on right now, it used to be forest as far as the eye could see.” Or so he had been told. There was not a soul alive who still actually remembered a time before Azor and the guilds. “And our people used to protect it, but somewhere along the line, people lost their way. What used to be small villages turned into cities, and those cities got bigger. And then the guilds came. They took away our way of life.”

Some of the older members around the fire nodded their heads in agreement. He continued, “The Simics claim to want to help nature grow, but all they do is mess with the balance with their experiments. The Selesnyans keep saying Ravnica needs to turn back to nature, but only their ideal of what nature should look like. They’ve forgotten what we were, and we celebrate Rauck-Chauv to remind them of what they want everyone else to forget.”

This seemed a bit much for the boy. He still looked confused. “Let me put it to you this way,” Khrung said. “If any of those elves knew anything about this time of year, they would know it’s a time to keep watch at night, to survive together as the nights get longer. We used to burn fires made from the wood of real trees, the trees of our ancestors, to keep watch at night. People held vigils, told stories, and watched the night sky, looking for the first signs of light. That was a time of true peace, not whatever this nonsense is they have now. Ravnica has forgotten that.”

“Like we’re doing right now, pa?”

“Exactly like that.”

Zhulluc was snoozing just next to them. Some watch he was keeping. Others had gone quiet, listening to the sounds of the night. It was mostly quiet, except for the occasional ruckus from the Rakdos streets. Khrung and Vukrix just let the fire keep them warm.

At last, the boy had more questions. “Pa, all those people that ran away when we came, we broke their homes, didn’t we?”

A few eyes looked at him, waiting to see the answer he would give. Khrung may not have been a leader like Ruric Thar, but he was considered wise.

“Yes, we did. But we have nowhere to go. They took our homes long before we ever did.”

“But where did they go? Pa, they weren’t dressed like us. They would freeze.”

He patted the boy’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry too much about that. Cobble roaches have a way of finding places to hide until they can take this street back. Once we have moved on to the next place, you can bet they’ll have this place rebuilt once more.” 

That was the problem. What difference were they really making? The other guilds did not seem to get it. They could destroy block after block of the endless city and it would only be built anew the moment they left. The clans were far too small to really do anything serious. And sure, the Living Guildpact had restored peace, but it was only a peace that served the guilds like the Azorius Senate, the Selesnyans and all those other city dwellers.

“So, they got someplace warm to go?” Vukrix asked again.

He chuckled. “Probably. If this really is a celebration of family like they claim it is, then they got plenty of family to stay with. Why do you ask?”

The boy’s hands began to fidget. He grasped at his father’s cloak. “You said that this place used to be forest before it became a city. That means that other people lived with us, right?”

“I suppose that’s possible,” he said with a nod. “If everyone wasn’t living in a city before, they had to live somewhere.”

Vukrix got quiet, forming his next words carefully. “If they had nowhere to go…would you have let them stay with us?”

Now more people began to listen. Khrung debated giving his answer. Still, was it not what the Gruul wanted all along?

“We would consider it, yes. But, it is unlikely they would ever want to. But, if the people of Ravnica really wanted to adopt the old ways, who are we to stop ‘em?”

That seemed to be enough for the group. A few elders nodded in silence, and everyone went back to their quiet peace. Even Vukrix fell asleep in his arms.

When the first rays of sunlight glinted against the icicles hanging from the rooftops of Ravnican homes, all had gone quiet. Even the most rambunctious of Rakdos revelers had finally settled in for a much-needed sleep.

Khrung watched the sunrise, wondering if this was what his ancestors felt like when they kept vigils during those long winter nights oh so long ago. He listened to the sounds of the trees in the Selesnyan gardens cracking under all the weight of last night’s snow. He looked around. Several of his clanmates had already started setting up their encampments and fresh fires. They would stay until there were no more pilfered resources to live off of. Zhulluc was finally up and walking about.

“Well, the Gruul survive another winter’s night,” he said, “and a Rauck-Chauv well-spent.”

“No thanks to you,” Khrung said with a laugh. “You were too busy snoring to help keep watch last night. I hope it was worth it because Ruric Thar is going to probably work us hard.”

He chuckled. “Probably. What else is new?”

Khrung nodded, taking another look at a snow-covered Ravnica. This world really had lost its way, he thought. Maybe one day people would wake up and see how far they had fallen. Something had to give soon. The peace and goodwill the Selesnyans spoke of on their holiday could not last. Khrung just wondered how long it would be before the match would ignite and just what form this change would take.


End file.
